Marvel: Brave New World
by Adam J. Manley
Summary: What if, in our world of comic books and movies, beings with super powers actually began to emerge? What wonderful or terrible consequences would ensue? Chatpers 1 & 2 posted. Please R&R!!!
1. Impossible

**Brave New World**   
by Adam J. Manley 

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Disclaimer: The X-Men, Avengers, Defenders, Fantastic Four, and all related characters are Copyright Marvel Characters, Inc. The characters used here, other than use of codenames copyrighted by Marvel Characters, Inc., are original creations, Copyright Adam J. Manley.

Author's Note: This story was written before the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. In fact, I finished it almost exactly a month before the tragedy. It creeps me out, but that's not the point. I'm saying this so that you know in future chapters, characters may or may not refer to 9/11. However, I am not placing it here, as it would disrupt the flow. Besides that, everybody knows what happened. I don't think we need my repeating it here.

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**Chapter One: Impossible**   
  


If you told somebody you were a part of the next stage of humanity, born with powers and abilities far beyond those of a normal man or woman, how do you think they would respond? Most likely, they would laugh, shrug it off as some sort of fantasy, or get you committed into the local mental institution. In short, they would believe that such a thing is impossible. What these people do not realize is that only one thing is truly impossible: impossibility itself. Given, many things are improbable. But not impossible.

Every day, people are diagnosed with lethal conditions, told they have only a certain amount of time to live. Yet every day, a small amount of these people live beyond the time they should have died. Sometimes by only a day. Occasionally by weeks or months. And then there are the rare blessed who live years beyond their expected date of death, possibly living a long and full life. Some don't even die of the condition that was supposed to kill them so long before they actually passed on.

So why is it so unbelievable that mankind's natural adaptation, combined with the many sources of radiation that we are exposed to every second of our lives, could possibly result in a human born with extraordinary powers? Why is it considered impossible for our species to mutate into something new? It's time to cast away society's old views on impossibility, because the improbable is now probable. On a planet with a deteriorating ozone layer, in a time of nuclear weapons and genetic miracles, in a generation of humans that has little concern for the radiation output by both technology and nature, something has happened. Welcome to a brave new world.

  


SEPTEMBER, 2001

"Little more than a year after the debut of the hit movie, X-Men, the existence of real mutants has been confirmed. Rumors of people possessing super-human abilities have spread like wildfire in recent months, and yesterday scientists finished examining the blood sample of a high school student who had gained the ability to manipulate metal.

"What the scientists found was a mutation in the gene sequence. The girl possesses an extra gene, labeled Gene X, which is not found in any species previously existing on Earth, including humans. What this means is that these gifted individuals are part of an entirely new species, already being called mutants after the popular comic book term, and may well be the next step for humanity as a whole."

Somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, two young men sit in the shadows after watching the news report. Not even they realize what impact their conversation will have on the future, that they are discussing the very fate of all life on Earth.

"Indeed it is the next step," the cloaked figure muses. "It is a transfer of power from humans to mutants. Time for the old to step down to be replaced by the new."

"Then you're set on your course," sighs the other, brushing his long hair behind his ears. "There's no way I can convince you to join my side? To fight for coexistence?"

"None."

"Very well. You know, then, that when we next meet, it will be as enemies. I will do everything within my power to stop you."

"No quarter asked..."

"...and none given."

"Good luck, old friend."

"To you as well."

  


NOVEMBER, 2001

It is a glorious age. Mutants are not only accepted, but they have become the latest fad. Mutants flaunt their powers for all to see, while normal humans quickly befriend mutants, achieving popularity or fame through association.

In a small town in Oregon, a group of high school students revel in their newfound good fortune. Never before has life been so good to Daniel MacLaughlan, Rich Richmond, Eric Simms, Mike Hough, Ryan Richmond, Zeb Smith, or Adam Jameson. They are all longtime friends, having met each other for lunch every day for the past few years. Today, they train in the use of their powers by playfully fighting against one another.

"Gotcha, Daniel!"

The red-haired Eric Matthew Simms has always loved violent video games. Now, as he uses his telekinetic powers to lift Daniel off the ground, he does so carefully, with a new appreciation for his friends. He knows that the slightest lapse in concentration would let thousands of minds, millions of stray thoughts, flooded into his head. When his powers first manifested, that is exactly what happened. what frightened him, though, was the thoughts that stood out, that still haunt the back of his subconscious, were those of violent criminals. Bank robbers. Rapists. Terrorists. Mass murderers. He knows he will never forget the horrifying experience, or what he learned from it.

"Let me down, you sonova..."

Daniel Stuart MacLaughlan, with his camouflage outfit and black hair buzzed as short as can be imagined, loves violence, vulgarity, and the military. So it was only fitting when he manifested powers similar to those of the character Wolverine, a vulgar, violent, ex-soldier. All five of his senses are enhanced, making him an excellent tracker, and nearly impossible to sneak up on. His razor-sharp bone claws are almost as dense as diamonds, able to slice through virtually anything. Finally, he has the ability to heal wounds that would be lethal to an ordinary human.

"I've got him, Daniel!"

ZAKT!

Richard Lee Richmond II is practically an angel, in more ways than one. The most obvious angelic attributes are due to his mutant powers. His impressive, snow-colored wings allow him to soar through the air over the others, while the "holy energy blasts" he emits from his eyes and hands allow him to take down his opponents without causing permanent physical damage, as he now demonstrates on Eric. Other than his powers, though, he is the stereotype of an all-American high school boy: blond hair, blue eyes, and devoutly religious.

"Geronimo!"

Michael Davis Hough laughs his battle cry as he comes to the aid of his cousin, leaping onto Rich's back and forcing him to the ground. His powers are more obvious even than Rich's. When his powers manifested, he sprouted shaggy black fur all over his body. He gained rows of serrated teeth, like a shark has, while his fingernails sharpened into potential weapons. His ears grew larger and pointed, and even his eyes changed to resemble those of a cat.

"Two points!"

Ryan Lee Richmond shouts victoriously as his ice blast knocks Mike into the fence, freezing him there momentarily. Ryan, the brown-haired brother of Rich, is the youngest member of the group, and has established a clownish reputation. Only fitting, then, that he should manifest the powers of the Classic X-Men's young clown, Iceman.

"Come on, Mike, don't let a Freshman get the drop on you!"

Zeb Theodore Smith shouts to his friends as he sits off on the side. He nearly tears his messy brown hair from beneath his favorite red cap as he frantically tries to complete the homework due the very next period. Zeb's powers are neither obvious nor flashy. He simply has a certain knack for any kind of technology. One could say he communicates with it. In any case, given enough practice, his abilities will allow him to walk through the best security system in the world without being detected. Such power, however, could be in better hands. For as long as these people have known him, Zeb has been a good person. Yet there is something else deep inside him. Something that only occasionally reaches out from the depths of his subconscious in the form of a quick temper. An omen of darkness.

"Mike, you aren't incapacitated yet. Just flex your muscles, your enhanced strength should break the ice. And no sick jokes about the way I phrased that, Daniel!"

Adam Manfred Jameson brushes his long died-blue hair behind his ear and takes his glasses off for a quick cleaning as he reminds Mike of the full scope of his powers. He instructed Eric in putting up mental shields to keep every stray thought from entering his head. He helped Daniel through the pain of bone claws slicing through his skin. The only one in the group with no powers of his own, one could, and should, wonder how he knows so much about mutant powers. Yet nobody does. Abnormalities are accepted as normal, be they powers, physical deformities, or unexplainable knowledge.

"This is the life, isn't it?" Zeb asks as he scribbles in the last answer of his assignment and slams his book shut, preparing to join the fight.

"It won't last, you know," replies Adam.

"What do you mean?"

"Mankind hates and fears that which it doesn't understand. Mutants are accepted now, but that's because thus far there's only been good publicity. Mutants saving lives, staring in movies and plays, et cetera. What do you think will happen when a mutant robs a bank or murders somebody?"

"Come on, nobody'd do that!"

"Why not? Anybody can be a mutant. Even people of questionable morals. Do you think that AIDS only affects people that deserve to die?"

Zeb remains silent, digesting the concept just introduced to him.

"Good point," he says.

  


At that very moment, a similar conversation is occurring in a secret military base somewhere in the state of Washington.

"Good pint," Dr. Timothy Tucker says, after listening to the words of Special Agent Nicole Nimrod.

"That is why we must proceed with haste," Agent Nimrod says passionately, her blond hair starting to come loose from it's tight ponytail, a few strands falling lightly across her intense face. "Project Defenders could well mean the survival of the human race."

"I agree. But what about your other project?" Timothy inquires. "Is it right to build those...things? Is it right to believe that if one mutant commits a criminal offense, that they all will? Are we becoming genetic Nazis?"

Nicole looks as though her green eyes could burn Tucker to ash on the spot as she shouts, "Think about it! We're on the edge of a genetic WAR! A good many of those...FREAKS have more power than an ATOM BOMB encoded in their very GENES! Wouldn't you be suspicious of somebody who carried around a concealed gun at all times, even if they seemed like a good person?!"

Trucker simply sighs, turning back to his workstation, realizing this is an argument Agent Nimrod will not allow him to win. At least not yet. He strokes his full, deep red beard as he thinks about the project, his superior officer, and the distant past.

Doctor Timothy Albert Tucker has led an enlightened life. Growing up, he was the eldest of five. His father, a prejudiced, drunk man stuck in what he considered a dead-end job. His mother, a timid homemaker who was too afraid of her husband to leave him. To the outside world, they were a cheerful, 50's sitcom family, right down to the perfect lawn and the white picket fence. Unfortunately, few people realize that appearances are deceiving. Timothy excelled in high school, for the most part because he was too afraid to go home. So he would spend all his time in the school, the library, or the museum. When he was at home, he would use homework as an excuse to hide away in his room, away from the pain of reality. Yet, he still managed to make many friends. Friends he could never invite over to his house, for fear of what his father's bigotry and alcohol would make him do.

Timothy was only sixteen when his mother died of a weak heart. She had been fighting with her husband when her heart failed her. In his drunken state, Timothy's father didn't know enough to call 9-1-1. Several hours later, when the kids arrived home from school, it was too late. After the funeral, Timothy swore on his mother's grave that he would never be like his father. That he would help those unjustly persecuted and those in destructive situations like his family had been in. To this day, he lives up to that vow.

"You're thinking about your dad, aren't you?"

Timothy had been so deep in silent reflection that he had not heard his friend, Jacob Simpson, approach until he had been startled by the sudden sound of his voice.

Jacob is a tall, African American man with dreadlocks and perfect teeth. Even now, as he attempts to look serious, he gives off an air of care-free confidence.

"What makes you think that?" asks Timothy, picking up the papers that had fallen as a result of his being surprised.

"You had that look on your face," replies Jacob, smirking as he continues, "and you never jump that high unless you've been thinking about your dad."

"I guess you're right," Timothy chuckles. "So, what are you doing here?"

"You didn't get my message?"

"I haven't checked my answering machine or my e-mail in a week or two. Been busy."

"As usual. "Well, today's the day they start training me to be a super-hero."

"Today? I didn't realize it was so soon. Well, good luck."

"Luck's always been on my side, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, you were always the biggest daredevil in the city. But one of these days, it's gonna catch up with you. After all, you..."

"'...Can't live on luck forever,' I know, I know! But I remain faithful that the day I run out of luck will be the day after I run out of ways to tempt fate."

Jacob Isaak Simpson was the middle of three children. He still remembers always having to fight for attention. His older brother was the perfect son: star player in almost every sport, president of the student body, an A+ in every class, a future. His younger sister was the truly talented one. She could play just about every instrument, play any song, draw, paint, and so on. Jacob, though, was too average to be noticed. His classmates, his teachers, his coaches, even his parents were always overlooking him. Ignoring him. Always paying attention to those they saw as better than him. He realized he had to fight for attention, and he did. He started taking risks, doing stunts. He could do any trick on a skateboard or a bicycle. He would accept and complete every dare. When he was old enough, he was bungee jumping, skydiving, and scaling cliffs. He got all the attention he needed and more. He became known throughout the neighborhood as The Daredevil.

  


DECEMBER, 2001

Jacob stands at the door for about a minute, listening to the joyful holiday noises emanating from within his friend's house, before Tim finally gets tot he door.

"Jacob!" Tim exclaims, pushing the top of a Santa Claus hat behind his head. "Merry Christmas!"

Tim gives Jacob a hug, and then notices the young, fair-skinned brunette standing next to the door.

"And who is this?" he asks.

Jacob smiles. "This is the love of my life, Renee Rickson," he says as he pulls Renee close. "She's another Defender volunteer. That's where we met."

Tim shakes hands with Renee. "Well, it's good to meet you! Now come on in, both of you, out of the cold!

  


MARCH, 2002

"Packing already?" Marcia Jones asks, popping a bubble of gum the same color as her spiky, hot pink hair. "When ya leavin'?"

"Tomorrow. It's only about a week until Uncle Tim's big project goes into it's final phase," responds the equally spiky, fiery-haired Katrina Tucker.

"I still can't believe they're letting you see some top-secret experiment," Marcia muses. "What's up with that?"

Katrina laughs, explaining, "It's not really top-secret. They're gonna give a big press release the next day. They just didn't want many people to know about it until now. Afraid the project would be slowed down by the controversy and stuff."

Marcia turns her face away, her almost eternal smile fading for a moment. "Yeah..."

Katrina looks over to her friend, sighing. She stops packing and walks over to Marcia, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"Hey, it'll be okay," she says. "I can't possibly believe they would hunt just any mutant. It's just a precaution in case some moron decides to kill people or try to take over the country or something like that."

Marcia looks back at Katrina, tears welling up in her eyes. "You're absolutely sure?" she asks, her voice quavering.

"Sure I'm sure!" Katrina smiles. "You have nothing to worry about as long as you don't run off and join with Osama or something."

  


APRIL, 2002

"I can't believe it's snowing! We haven't had a decent snow in years, and it snows NOW?!"

Zeb voices everyone's thoughts with these words. The Willamette Valley has not had a good snow for several years, let alone so late in the year.

"A friend owed me a favor," Adam smirks.

"How exactly does that make it snow?" asks Daniel.

Adam smiles again. "That friend happens to be a mutant. A mutant who can control the weather."

"You hang out with other mutants?" inquires Rich.

"No, you're the only mutants I could ever possibly know," Adam replies sarcastically. "Almost half the school consists of mutants. Do the math."

Adam walks inside to get a cup of hot cocoa. While inside, he turns on the TV. He sits down as a "Breaking News" report comes on, interrupting the Easter movie playing. Adam's eyes widen suddenly, his cup falling to the floor and shattering.

Outside, the others are having the time of their lives in he two-foot snow. Making snowmen, hiking and climbing, having snowball fights. They have no way of knowing that this would be the last moment of happy "normalcy" they will experience for a long time.

Adam bursts out the door, shouting, "Everybody inside NOW!"

"As he runs back in, his friends look at one another, confused, before following slowly. Inside, they find Adam intently watching a news report on TV.

"What's wrong?" asks Rich.

"I've always said it wouldn't last," Adam replies quietly. "Terrorists in Seattle. Mutant terrorists. They've taken the Space Needle."

Everyone grows silent, now realizing the urgency of the situation. Yet, with all their powers, all they are able to do is watch and hope.

"Gabrielle Nelson here live a few blocks away from the Space Needle, which has been taken over by a group of mutant terrorists calling themselves the Brotherhood. Their leader, calling himself The Reaper, is demanding that mutants be given sole control of the entire Pacific Coast. The President has issued a statement declaring that there is nothing these people can do that will force the government to give into terrorism."

At that moment, there is a sudden bright flash from behind the reporter. It is not until after the deafening noise of the disaster is heard and the unnatural winds nearly knock the reporter off her feet that the horrible truth is realized: the Space Needle has just exploded.

Worse, the explosion is not ceasing. All over the world, on almost every channel, people watch in frightened silence. The explosion continues from he small mushroom cloud where the Space Needle was in all directions. It engulfs small buildings, and the taller buildings topple as the lower levels are demolished. It has only been about five seconds before it reaches the reporter and the cameraman, both too scared to run. The screen goes blank for a minute, then returns with a "Please Stand By" message.

Within ten seconds, the base of Project Defenders is hit by an earthquake and an immense power surge. Twenty seconds after that, Portland, Oregon, is shaken by an earthquake that has not decreased in strength. Five seconds later, the 'quake has reached the small group of horrified teenagers in Adam's house, having not slowed down or weakened one bit. Finally, seven minutes after the time of the initial disaster, the news reports come back on, and the world is silent as their worst fears are confirmed.

  


_Seattle has been destroyed._


	2. Aftershock

**Brave New World**   
by Adam J. Manley 

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Disclaimer: The X-Men, Avengers, Defenders, Fantastic Four, and all related characters are Copyright Marvel Characters, Inc. The characters used here, other than use of codenames copyrighted by Marvel Characters, Inc., are original creations, Copyright Adam J. Manley.

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**Chapter Two: Aftershock**   
  


My name is Jacob Isaac Simpson, and I'm not having a very good day.

Today was a very crucial day in the Defenders project. After months of training, Renee, the other Alpha volunteer, and I were going to become super-heroes. We had been strapped onto tables in a small room. The Project's scientists, including my good friend Tim Tucker, injected us with special chemicals. A few minutes later, the room was empty as the radiation treatments began.

Then everything went nuts. Machines were exploding, people were screaming, and I felt a sudden pain in my eyes just before I passed out. When I woke up, everything was dark. That about brings everything up to date.

I feel around, hoping the lights will come back on soon. I still hear screaming and explosions. I feel the heat of a fire near me. But that's not possible! If there were fire, there would be light! If I don't see the fire, then...

"Oh God, I'm blind..."

My words come out as a sob, and the tears well up in my useless eyes. I'm blind! I'm blind. I'm blind...

  


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My name is Renee Audrey Rickson, and I'm having a bad day.

I remember feeling a million different emotions running through me as the radiation treatments began. Joy. Fear. Anxiety. Then one of the scientists started shouting something.

A split-second after that, I felt the ground shake. Machines started to explode, and I heard screaming. I struggled to get up, but I was shackled to the table!

The monitoring window shattered, and I began to hyperventilate. I looked to my left, and saw that Jacob was unconcious. There was broken glass stuck in his face, and his eyes were covered in blood.

Something exploded right next to me, and I was thrown free of the table. I was about to thank God for freeing me, when I realized it: I was on fire! I could feel the excrutiating pain of my entire body burning. I tried to scream, but found that I could not, for the fire was inside me as well. My vocal cords had already burned away. So I fell to the ground, accepting that that I would eventually be burned to death gradually, by this unnaturally slow fire...

  


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My name is Timothy Albert Tucker and I'm having a bad day.

We had just initiated the radiation treatments on Jacob and Renee when the alarm started beeping on my computer terminal. I had set it to keep track of any natural disasters that might endanger the Project. I hadn't honestly expected anything to happen, but I took the precaution anyway.

Quickly, I clicked on the blinking icon on the taskbar. I saw an 8.9 earthquake, with an epicenter in Seattle, heading toward the Project. Then I saw the electromagnetic pulse, with the exact same point of origin and speed as the earthquake.

I had no time to question what was happening. I jumped up from my station, shouting to abort the procedure, but it was too late. The ground began to shake, and machines went haywire. I was still shouting when an explosion threw me across the room. I smashed through the monitoring window, shattering the supposedly unbreakable new glass into hundreds of little peices. I felt myself hit the wall, head first, less than a millisecond before everything went black...

  


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My name is Katrina Elizabeth Tucker, and I'm having a bad day.

I had been invited to see the culmination of my Uncle Tim's work with the Defenders Project: imbuing normal humans with superhuman powers. The last thing I expected was to be caught underneath a pile of rubble. I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself, though.

I was screaming my head off. Everything was exploding. I had just watched my uncle get thrown through what should have been an unbreakable window as if it was tissue paper. Jacob had shards of glass sticking out of his face. Renee was on fire.

I heard other people screaming, both from fear and from pain. I saw small animals running in from another room. Uncle Tim had told me they tested the super-power procedure on animaIs before approving it for Jacob and Renee. I guess the earthquake broke their cages open.

The animals started flooding through the room, panicking, trying to escape. I got knocked over, and then trampled. I was in too much pain to move when I saw part of the wall and cieling crumbling. So I just lay there and screamed as I was buried alive under a ton of rubble.

So here I am, alive and aware of every single broken bone. Every open wound. Every peice of wall or machinery preventing me from moving even the slightest.

"AAAAGH!"

I scream as I feel a sudden, new pain in my neck, just under my jaw. I feel two tiny fangs pull out from my flesh, and eight tiny legs crawl over my face and into a space between the rubble. As it crawl away, I catch a glimpse of the red hourglass on it's abdomen.

"God, I'm going die..."

I start to cry more than I've ever cried before. I know that I'm going to die. If the poison doesn't kill me, and I don't bleed to death, I'll still starve here, trapped under a pile of rubble where nobody will ever find me. I'm going to die, over a matter of days, feeling every ounce of pain...

  


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I am...blind. Blind, but alive. I can't keep sitting here feeling sorry for myself. The others might be suffering from worse wounds.

So I pull the glass out of my face, wincing at the pain. I tear off a piece of my shirt and wrap it around my face as a temporary bandage. I ignore the pain and call out to the darkness.

"Is anybody still concious?"

I hear nothing but the fire close to me, and the occasional sparking up of demolished machinery. The explosions have stopped, and nobody's screaming anymore. I'm not sure if that's a good sign or a bad sign. So I call out again.

"Can anybody hear me?"

I hear somebody cough. Jesus, they're only an inch away from me! Why don't they respond? I can hear them move, so they must be concious.

I move toward the sound. The person moves away quickly. I hear muffled crying. It sounds odd...there's no voice to it. It's just the sound of erratic, forceful breaths. I try to talk to them, maybe get a response.

"Please, I...I can't see. You've got to talk to me, tell me where you are and stop moving away."

I hear some sort of tapping. They seem to be tapping the floor with a piece of metal. It takes me about a minute to recognize that it's morse code.

"Morse code, eh? Alright, just slow down a bit, I can't think very easily."

The tapping slows, and I start to translate in my head: R-E-N-E-E.

"Renee? Why won't you speak?"

C-A-N-T.

"What do you mean you can't? What happened?"

F-I-R-E.

"Yeah, what about the fire?"

V-O-C-A-L. C-O-R-D-S.

"Your vocal cords got burned?"

Y-E-S.

"My God, Renee! How burned are you?"

I feel a hand touch mine. It's Renee. She's covered in blood, and feels like she's practically made of burns, but she can obviously walk. She embraces me, and we hug for a few minutes. I stroke her head, now lacking all but a few stubs of hair, to comfort her. She continues to cry, until suddenly she gasps, and starts urgently pulling me away from a new sound.

  


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Jacob and I had been hugging when I saw it. Rising from under some dust and rubble was a gigantic, green monster! It's eyes were three different shades of red: light reddish-pink for the whites of it's eyes, bright red irises, and blood red pupils. Its dark green hair was tangled and shaggy, with a few of the long strands draping across it's hidious face. It bared it's simian fangs, and began to lumber forward.

I drag Jacob away from the creature as I watch it. Its arms are almost the same length as it's body, and it walks on its knuckes as an ape does. It lumbers forward, through the gap in the wall that used to be the monitoring window. It makes grunting sounds as it swats piles of rubble out of its way like so much dirty laundry.

"What is it, Renee? What's wrong?"

I almost forgot Jacob can't see, so he doesn't know about the giant creature. I take the piece of metal I found earlier and tap out a morse code on the wall.

G-I-A-N-T. M-O-N-S-T-E-R.

"Monster? Renee, this is no time for joking. Just tell me what's..."

Jacob is inturrupted by an earsplitting noise. The creature has begun to beat it's chest. It continues beating it's chest as it opens it's mouth at lets loose a roar that makes my heart stop cold.

"Renee, we've got to get out of here. Do you see any other survivors?"

C-A-N-T. T-E-L-L. W-H-O. I-S. A-L-I-V-E.

"Damn. Well, anybody in particular you wanna save before that thing decides human flesh would make a nice treat?"

T-I-M-S. N-E-I-C-E.

"Oh my God, I forgot about her. Poor kid's probably scared outta her mind, if she's still alive. You're right, though. This could be considered a professional hazard for us, but Katrina's just a kid. If anybody should be saved, it's her."

Suddenly, the creature looks at us. It looks like it's nodding its head. It's almost as if it agrees with what Jacob said. I tap out a new message to Jacob.

C-R-E-A-T-U-R-E. N-O-D-D-I-N-G. M-A-Y. W-A-N-T. T-O. S-A-V-E. G-I-R-L.

"Jesus, I think...could that...could that thing be Tim?"

Oh, God. I hadn't thought of that. Tim had been right where the monster was. Could the radiation have caused him to mutate into that thing?

Y-E-S.

"This is a very bad day."

Y-E-S.

  


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Well, maybe I won't die of poison, bleeding, or starvation. It sounds like there's something very big and very angry out there. If I'm lucky it'll find me and kill me quick.

What's that? I hear talking now...talking, tapping, and grunting? The tapping...that's morse code! I wish I knew more...I can hear my name being mentioned. Then I hear somebody call out to me.

"Katrina! This is Jacob! If you can talk, do it now! We're going to get you out of here!"

I start to laugh. Just a minute ago, I was sure I was going to die.

"I'm here!" I shout. "Under a pile of rubble! Please hurry! I'm bleeding, I have broken bones, and one of your test animals bit me!"

"Test animal?" Jacob calls, now closer. "Which one?"

"It was a black widow!"

"Oh, God. We've gotta get you to a hospital. Broken bones, bleeding, and a bite from a super-powered spider...Jesus, girl, I'm surprised you're still alive, let alone concious!"

I hear the sound of an ape grunting as the rubble was lifted suddenly off me. I feel a surge of pain as the pressure is removed from my body.

I look at my saviors. The entire upper half of Jacob's face is covered by a makeshift bandage. There is a woman, who I assume is Renee, burned from head to toe and wearing one of the lab coats that had been hanging on the wall before the 'quake. And finally, there's this big, green...thing! I open my mouth to scream, but Renee starts shaking her head and making hand motions, trying to tell me not to.

Renee taps a message out to Jacob, who smiles a little in response. The creature grunts a little, and starts to make sad sounds as it gently strokes my hair.

"I imagine you're a bit confused, Katrina," says Jacob. "But the creature in front of you is your uncle."

I'm to shocked to speak. I look at the green, ape-like hulk in front of me. It suddenly gives me the same goofy smile Uncle Tim always gives me to make me feel better. I take one look at that creature with my uncle's smile, and pass out.

  


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Mi nam is Timm Tukur. I sav mi nees. Nees saf now. Timm do good jobe. Jakub saay so. Armee peepol tac mi, Jakub, Cutreenuh, Runay to hospeetul. Allll betur now. Jakub saay we cumplan to Projekt Deefinderss toomorowe.

  



End file.
